A Professional Relationship
by FuchsiaMae
Summary: Cave and Caroline spend a late night at the office. Cave/Caroline first-time fic. Rated M for adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Just to warn you now, Chapter 2 will be almost exclusively smut, and will only be posted on my LJ. I'll link to it from here. For anyone in need of graphic smut to tide them over while I finish Chapter 2, there are a couple of dirty new one-shots up already - basically, if I've linked to it on my author page but not posted it here, it's PWP.

**Disclaimer**: Portal is Valve's, not mine.

.

**A Professional Relationship**

_Sometimes science is hard work_.

Cave Johnson sighed forlornly. He had a mountain of papers to sign, a list as long as his forearm of calls to return tomorrow, and he'd been staring at this budget so long his vision was starting to blur. Late nights in the office were his norm, but this one was getting too late even for him—he desperately needed to unwind. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and wished for a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"Would you like a drink, sir?"

He removed his hands from his eyes to see his pretty assistant, a glass in her hand. Suddenly things didn't look so bad.

"Caroline, you're a gem." He accepted gratefully. One of Caroline's many talents was the ability to mix a perfect Jack and Coke. With a single sip he felt the tension in his muscles start to ease—her hands massaging his shoulders, unasked for but very welcome, did the rest of the job. His sigh now was one of contentment. "How do you always know just what I need?"

The compliment made her smile. "That's what I'm here for, sir."

Her expert fingers on the knots in his back felt exquisite. He shifted to allow her better access and relaxed into her touch.

She, meanwhile, was peering curiously over his shoulder at the papers on his desk. "What're you working on?"

"Budget crap. Don't know why the bean counters won't take care of it. All I'm asking for is enough to build a giant chicken coop for the giant chickens they're breeding in the lab. They've got 'em about dog-sized now, but if this thing works they'll be bigger than horses. We could end world hunger! Or at least that's what I keep telling Accounting, but they don't seem to buy it."

Caroline moved around him to get a better look at the figures. "How much do we need?"

"Enough for the enclosure, and the light and water systems, and chickenfeed for around forty super-birds. A couple of million oughta do it. I just don't know where that'll come from."

"What about the shower curtains? They're selling better than ever."

"Thought of that. Our buyers are taking as much as they can handle already."

A spark of inspiration lit suddenly in Caroline's eyes. She whirled to face him, wearing a confidential grin. "So why don't we find some new buyers?"

"Like who?" She had his full attention now—he had no idea what she was getting at, but her moments of brilliance like this were captivating.

"What about the military?"

Cave blinked. "What?"

"They need shower curtains as much as anyone, and ours are the best. Waterproof, fireproof, bulletproof, airtight—they're military-grade already." Her words were slow and deliberate and dripping with excitement. "Call the president. Set up a meeting. Make Aperture Science the official shower curtain supplier of the US Armed Forces."

"That's…" Cave's face broke into a colossal grin. "Caroline, that's brilliant!" He bounded up from his chair and swept her off her feet.

Caroline laughed in surprise. "Mr. Johnson—!"

"You're a genius! You're a goddamn genius!" He whirled her in a circle. "Accounting can kiss my ass! We'll make a _fortune_!" At last he set her down, but his strong arms stayed wrapped around her in a tight hug. He murmured into her hair, "I don't know how I ever got by without you."

Pressed to his chest, her nose was filled with the warm masculine scent of him. She flushed and felt her heart skip. "Just doing my job, sir." She heard the breathlessness in her own voice and her flush deepened.

He heard it too, thought his hug was crushing her, and let her go. A smile teased his mouth when he noticed her blushing—she was so damn cute when she tried to be modest. "I think that's enough work for tonight. Let's take a break, huh?" He grabbed his drink from the desk and found a seat on the sofa across the room, putting his feet up on the coffee table as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"I still have things to finish, sir." She started to go.

He held out a hand to stop her. "Hey, hey, it can wait. C'mon, sit with me." He patted the yellow upholstered cushion beside him invitingly.

She paused, indecisive for a moment, then relented with a shy smile and sat. He threw an arm around her shoulders—without thinking, she relaxed into his side. The picture they unconsciously created was like nothing so much as teenage dates at a drive-in movie.

Cave took a sip of his drink and sighed in satisfaction. Not a bad end to the day—a million-dollar idea for the morning, a place to rest his feet, a Jack and Coke in one hand, and a pretty girl at the other. He glanced down at her. Her head lay pillowed on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cute as a those big brown eyes, and that soft pink mouth, and that gorgeous body snuggled under his arm, a sexy little kitten—

_Stop it_.

And there it was—that weird mental roadblock he hit whenever he thought of her sexually. And he did—often. Who wouldn't? She was young, and pretty, and around him all the time, and he just couldn't make himself do anything about it. Normally he was a Casanova—a little sweet-talk, a suggestive smile, and he was alone in the break room with the woman of his choice. So why couldn't he pull his usual tricks on her?

He was a go-getter. A man of action. A stud. He was a man who took what he wanted—and he'd never wanted anyone so badly in his life.

So why did those sweet chocolate eyes stop him in his tracks?

Those eyes were on him now, he noticed abruptly, peeking upward from under long dark lashes. He felt suddenly torn. One half of him wanted to kiss her right on her pretty mouth; the other half warned,_ Don't you dare. Let go of her before you do something stupid_. Cave Johnson was not a man accustomed to internal conflict. He did neither—he simply stared transfixed until she shyly averted her own gaze.

He cleared his throat. "It does me good to have a young thing like you around, Caroline. Makes me feel young again myself." _Great. Now I sound like her grandpa. Not like it makes any difference, she's too young for me anyway—_

But the way she looked at him now made him almost think she read his mind. "I'm not all that young, sir."

"Come on," he scoffed. "What are you, nineteen?"

"I was nineteen when you hired me, Mr. Johnson. It's been five years."

He blinked. "Has it really?" That put a different spin on things. Not much of one—she was still too young for him—but… like she said, not all that young. Her eyes on him showed no trace of bashfulness now. "And I've never seen you clock out before me. Why do you spend all your nights cooped up in this place?"

"Because I like to." Her tone said that it should be obvious. "I like how it's quiet and peaceful, I like getting extra work done, I like when it's just you and me—" She heard herself and bit back her words too late. A blush rose to her cheeks, she looked quickly away, and her shyness settled like a veil over her face. "I like it," she finished quietly.

Damn that shyness. He tried to draw her out again. "Shouldn't you be—I dunno, out having fun, meeting men, whatever kids do these days?"

That did it. Her eyes snapped sharply back to him. "I don't know what other people do, sir," she said haughtily, "but _I _do science."

He laughed. "Caroline, you are my kinda girl."

"I try." Her smile was less bashful and more proud. "In fact—" She lit up with another idea. "I know just what you need."

"What's that?" But she had already slipped out from under his arm and seated herself daintily on the coffee table across from him.

She took hold of one foot and eased off his shoe. "I bet your feet are aching after such a long day, aren't they?"

"Aw, Car—" His protest turned into a groan of pleasure as her thumbs dug into the arch of his foot. "You're just good at everything, aren't you?"

Her shy, proud smile grew. "I try."

With another groan he melted blissfully into the couch, surrendering to her skilled hands. "You're gorgeous, you're smart, you make a great Jack and Coke, and your idea of a good time is staying late in the office to give me a foot rub. Why the hell haven't I married you yet?" Blushing slightly, she kept her attention fixed on his feet—she didn't trust herself to reply. Thankfully the question was rhetorical. He flexed his foot and sighed. "I must've done something spectacular to deserve you."

That she did know how to answer. Eyes still demurely downcast, her smile returned. "You're Cave Johnson, sir. Everything you do is spectacular."

"Damn straight!" he laughed, and finished his Jack and Coke in one long gulp. She paused the foot massage long enough to take his empty glass and set it on the table beside her. "You really don't have anyone you'd rather spend an evening with?"

"No, sir," she said firmly. "Aperture comes first."

_She's a regular little propaganda film_, he thought, a bit awed. It was heartwarming and unsettling and—dammit—cute. She really was something special. He persisted out of curiosity. "C'mon, no friends, no sweethearts? A girl as pretty as you's gotta have a man in her life."

"I have—" She caught herself this time. "I have science, sir."

"You don't have a beau or anything?"

"I've already given my heart away." Her tone held a touch of wistfulness. Her eyes stayed on his feet.

"Lemme guess—to science?"

"Yes sir."

"It was a tragedy for men everywhere the day you came to work here, huh?" He chuckled and folded his hands behind his head. "Hell, if I were ten years younger you'd never get rid of me."

Focusing on her task lessened the comment's unintended sting. She switched to the other foot. As she removed his remaining shoe, she said in a forced-casual tone, "Some women like older men."

"Aw, don't tease me, kid."

"It's true." She rubbed slow, contemplative circles into his foot as she talked. "Young men are immature and boring. Some women prefer a man who's more… worldly. Intelligent. Worthy of respect. A man with willpower. A man who's so confident and strong that being with him makes her feel confident and strong too." She felt herself sliding into reverie and gave herself a little shake. Returning to her casual tone, she finished, "A man like that could have any woman he wanted."

He scoffed, "Never met one."

"I have."

"Oho! She's smitten after all!" Curiosity got Cave's attention—and a sudden flash of jealousy flared in his gut. He swung his feet off the table and leaned forward. "Who is he?"

She didn't have feet to focus on now. Before she could stop herself, her eyes met his.

In that heartbeat, their dark depths swallowed him whole. He saw her—timid, uncertain, but aching for something he had to give. He wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her and kiss her and make her his, but that damned insecurity kept him at bay. There was something delicate in those eyes—and that scared him. He broke delicate things. He didn't want to break her.

She dropped her gaze to the ground, cheeks burning, and whispered, "I was talking about you, sir."

But he wasn't going to let that shyness have her again. "Hey, kid—" He reached out to stroke her cheek. She looked up at him again, eyes wide, soft little mouth barely open in surprise, and with one last thought—_You're Cave Johnson, dammit_—he screwed up his courage. The words came out in a husky whisper: "Can you guess what I need now?"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Okay, since it's only about 1/3 smut, I figure this update is safe to post. More to come.

.

"Can you guess what I need now?"

They were drawn together like magnets. Suddenly she was in his lap, her face enticingly close, close enough that he felt her breath on his mouth as she replied, "Yes sir, Mr. Johnson."

He didn't know who started the kiss, and he didn't care. All that mattered was her sweet soft lips on his. She pressed her body into him with a tiny moan. The sound flooded him with confidence—she was asking for it. And Cave Johnson was damn sure going to deliver.

Before she could blink she was on her back, draped across the yellow upholstery of the sofa, with his weight spread on top of her. His hungry mouth devoured hers, biting and sucking at her virgin lips, exploring her with his tongue. She felt suddenly lightheaded and realized she was breathing his breath. The thought was intoxicating. She twined her tongue around his—spurred on by her enthusiasm, he kissed her harder and shifted to lie squarely between her legs. Her legs wrapped instinctively around him as he crushed her into the cushions.

At last his mouth let hers up to breathe. Starved for air, she took a few gasping breaths and panted, "Mr. Johnson—!"

She looked exquisite lying there, wide-eyed and openmouthed beneath him. As he absorbed the sight his face broke into a devilish grin. _Don't you worry, kiddo._ _Cave's gonna take good care of you…_

His mouth found hers again, but when her lips parted willingly to let him in he only nipped at the lower for a moment before moving on. He nosed below her jawline with a kiss, mouthing the sensitive skin below her ear, drinking in the scent of her hair—flowery sweetness overlying a warm animal smell that went straight to his groin. He groaned deeply, his hot breath on her skin sending shivers through her body, making her arch helplessly into him. Her desperate hands clutched at the small of his back. He thrust into her at the touch.

She felt him hard between her legs and ground her hips into his, counting in the back of her mind the layers of fabric between them—boxers, pants, panties, three; her skirt was already up around her waist. When did that happen? Her common sense howled, _What the hell are you doing? Wake up!_ But this wasn't a dream. His mouth moving lower, sucking hard at her throat, was very real. She felt her nipples harden, felt wetness slick on her thighs, felt every movement against her thin cotton panties sending shocks through the flesh underneath. Her mind screamed in protest, but her body wanted _more_.

His fingers found the buttons of her blouse and tore them open to the navel. He ran his tongue over the tops of her breasts, making her whimper and writhe beneath him, and groped at the tender mounds through her bra as his mouth found hers again. She let the electricity of his kiss drown out the panicked voice in the back of her head, let herself succumb to the carnal lust in the pit of her stomach, let her mind go blank—

His hands disappeared between their tangled legs, fumbling at his fly—

_GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT NOW!_

And suddenly she was across the room. He looked up at her in utter confusion. "Caroline—"

"Mr. Johnson—I can't, sir—I'm sorry—" Clutching her blouse closed with one hand, she backed towards the door.

He stumbled up from the sofa and followed. "Caroline—"

"I have to go."

"Caroline!"

But the door closed in his face, and she was gone.

He stared at it openmouthed, not quite sure what just happened. _Did she just _walk out_ on Cave Johnson? _Nobody_ walks out on Cave Johnson!_ Nobody left Cave Johnson gaping at a door like an idiot with a wilting erection, that teasing little _I'm sorry, kid, please come back_—

He sagged against the door in defeat. "Shit."

After a moment to catch his breath, he sank shakily into his desk chair. What the hell _was_ that? One second she was begging for it, the next she bolted like a scared rabbit. Crazy kid.

It didn't matter. He could always get another girl, he was Cave Johnson—

But he didn't want another girl. He wanted those sweet soft lips on his again, that warm body in his arms, those deep brown doe-eyes gazing into his heart. He'd wanted Caroline for years, and he'd finally gotten a taste of her, and now she was gone.

At least he'd see her at work in the morning. If she came to work in the morning.

If she ever came to work again.

"_Shit_." _What if she quits?_ The thought of being forced to replace her was more than he wanted to consider right now. He couldn't imagine the office without her constant cheerful presence, always at his beck and call, always ready to brighten his day with a smile. _Who's gonna make my coffee? _He felt terribly abandoned. _If you quit on me, Caroline, I'm gonna fire you. I will _fire_ your cute little ass. Please come back_.

She was one in a million, and he just scared her off, probably for good. He hunched morosely over his desk. "Cave, you handsome devil—you are a shithead. You are a _colossal_ shithead." He spared the door one last hopeless glance before letting his head fall into his hands. "There goes the best damn thing that ever happened to you."

*.*.*

_What the hell _was_ that?_

Caroline slumped against the closed door, panting, her heart thundering in her ears. Her hand went to her throat, where his kiss still burned on her skin, then trailed unconsciously down between her breasts—the memory of his mouth on them made her knees go weak. She took a deep breath, in and out, and sank to the floor.

_Okay. Think. _Think_, Caroline. Shut up!_ Her brain hissed this last order to the wildcat arousal yowling in her belly. From the waist down she wanted nothing more than to burst back in there and make sweet love to him until sunrise—actually that sounded pretty good from the waist up, too—

_But we're not going to do that, are we? We're going to calmly, logically think up a plan of action. One that doesn't involve getting pregnant, and losing your job, and living on the streets, and becoming a prostitute—_

_Stop it. I'm not in one of those crazy stories Sister Francis used to tell us._

_But this is how they start—_

_Shush! I just… I just need a plan. I have to think._

Her purse was within arm's length, on the floor by her desk. She fished out her compact and checked herself in the mirror—a dark lovebite stood out starkly against the pale flesh of her throat. Her lips whispered "Shoot," but her mind said _Shit_. No amount of pretending nothing happened would make that go away.

And yet, there was something oddly gratifying about seeing the mark he left on her. It sent a twinge zinging to her still-hard nipples and down between her legs. Evidence.

Evidence of what?

_Of your whoring._

_I wasn't whoring._

_Oh no? What else do you do with your skirt up to your waist and a man you've never even kissed before?_

_It's not like he's a stranger. He's… Mr. Johnson. _And the thought of him made her tingle from head to toe. She bit her lip, still very aware of her arousal.

_Is that supposed to make it better? He's your boss! You spent five years trying to earn his respect, and you just threw it all away. You're no better than a tramp. _

_He didn't treat me like a tramp._ She felt his strong arms around her again, twirling her about like a princess. 'I don't know how I ever got by without you…'_ He treated me like I was special._

_He wanted to sleep with you. That's what men do_. _You're just a dumb little girl he can have his way with for a night and then take out with the trash in the morning. _

But he'd never made advances on her before, and he hadn't tonight until she admitted her crush. _He's not like that. I know he's not._

_Are you sure? Are you an expert on men now, Miss Never-Been-Kissed? Take your shame and go home._

_No._

_We'll call in the morning, and we'll say I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson, but I can't work for you anymore—_

_No!_

_You can't stay, not after making a fool of yourself like this—_

_So what should I do? Become a nun? Leave Aperture? I don't think so. _The last five years had been the happiest of her life. She loved her job. She loved this company. Almost as much as she loved its founder.

No, she wasn't leaving.

_I'm going to go back in and talk to him like an adult._ _We will be civilized and proper. We will have a thorough discussion of our relationship, and continue from there._

_It'll be hard to discuss anything with his tongue down your throat_, came a devilish thought from her libido.

_Shush. If anything… happens… I'll deal with it. I'm a grown woman. I can handle myself. _She refused to acknowledge the way her heart started to pound when she made the decision, or the magnetic pull below her navel dragging her back inside. She was a levelheaded, sensible adult, not some hormone-crazed teenager.

_So you won't let him go all the way? Because that sounds like a great idea._

_Shush!_

She shoved her thoughts aside and reopened her compact. Looking herself over again, her eyes were drawn back to the blotch on her neck. _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it…_ She managed to tear her eyes away. If she was going to act like a civilized person, she'd better try to look like one.

Her lipstick was beyond salvaging. She used a tissue to mop off what remained, smoothed her hair into some semblance of order, and—realizing abruptly that her bra was still showing—buttoned up the front of her blouse. _There. A bit more presentable, at least._

She got to her feet, steadfastly ignoring the slickness of her inner thighs rubbing together, and lay a hand on the doorknob when one last thought stopped her: _What do you think's going to happen if you go back in there?_

She chewed worriedly at her lip. Would he be angry? Would he fire her anyway? Or would he try something else?_ I don't know_, she thought helplessly._ I have no idea. But…_

'Science is all about the unknown. Why bother doing an experiment if you already know how it'll go? Isn't that right, Caroline?'

'Yes sir, Mr. Johnson!'

Her hand twisted the doorknob. _There's only one way to find out._

_._

**A/N:** Don't you hate when you're trying to write smut, but your characters insist on beating around the bush? Caroline I can excuse, but Cave, I expect better from you! Next chapter had better be too dirty to post, or there will be _consequences_. _  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Okay, I'm just going to make it easier for everyone and take my chances posting this. There is **graphic sex** in this installment. If you object to reading it, feel free to skip this chapter.** You have been warned**.

For those who have been anxious for an update, I'm sorry this one took so long and I hope it's worth the wait. Enjoy!

.

She found him slumped on his desk with his head in his hands. He didn't react to her entrance, too deep in dejection to hear the door open and close. He looked pitifully defeated—worse than when she'd found him earlier. _Poor man. Poor, sweet man. I just want to hold him_…

The thought drew her forward a few steps before she caught and composed herself. _Remember. Mature adult. Mature adult conversation. _

_The usual place to start would be saying something._

She took another step forward, steeled herself for whatever came next, and said softly, "Mr. Johnson?" He jolted into alertness at the sound of her voice—she flushed as their eyes met and felt a knee-weakening warmth pool below her navel. _I'm not going home alone tonight, am I?_ The thought made her shiver.

"_Caroline!_" He jumped to his feet, grabbed her by the waist, realized that his touch might not be well-received, and quickly let go—but she caught his hands and held them. The little touch gave him a burst of confidence as he tried to talk his way into a comfort zone. "Look, Caroline, I know it's expected for a handsome, successful, charismatic man like me to have an affair with his beautiful secretary, but I have never wanted to force you into that role. I respect you, kid, I really do—hell, you're the best damn secretary a man could want. And I don't want to give that up."

She was barely listening. Her gaze was drawn from his eyes to his mouth—she remembered the taste of him, just moments ago, and felt her own lips part in anticipation.

"So if you think this will cause a problem for you, even though I don't see how, we can forget it ever happened. I mean I can't really forget how damn cute you are, but I won't, y'know, jump on you anymore. Promise. You're gorgeous and sexy and I would love to go to bed with you, but I don't want that to affect out working relationship, because our working relationship works."

She'd never wanted anything in her life like she wanted him now. Five years of suppressed longing surged to the surface, leaving her breathless with need. His mouth was_ so close…_

"It's just that sometimes a man has certain urges, and sometimes a woman can provoke those urges, especially if she's better than any woman he's ever met—"

She cut him off with her lips over his.

The kiss was quick, but it was enough to send him into dumbfounded silence. A blush to match hers crept into his cheeks. The words he finally found were unexpectedly soft: "You didn't have to do that."

"No. I didn't." Mature adult conversation forgotten, she drew his face down to hers and kissed him again. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she eased into him. Feeling her trusting weight against him as her gently coaxing lips plucked at his, he let out a low groan and pulled her close to return the kiss. She let everything go but him—his lips crushed into hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, his body pressed hard against her in an intimate embrace. His hands held her possessively, one on the sensitive small of her back, the other sliding down to grasp her rump. The touch sent a thrill through her spine—she whimpered and clung to him tighter, mashing her mouth to his. There was no thinking, and no worrying, and he was Cave Johnson, and this was _wonderful_.

It abruptly stopped being wonderful as he tore himself away for air. He took a few panting breaths, then chuckled roguishly—his mouth brushed against hers, teasingly close, as he purred, "Couldn't say no to a taste of ol' Cave, huh?"

No, she couldn't. She jumped on him and knocked him backwards into the desk as her lips caught his again. He flipped her over easily—in a blink she was the one pinned against the desk. He boosted her up to sit on it. His hands slipped under her blouse and she gasped as he stroked the bare skin underneath, caressing her slim waist and the curve of her spine, sending little shivers everywhere his fingers touched. No one had ever touched her like this. As his hands wandered up to her bra clasp she thought giddily, _I'm a whore, I'm a whore, I think I _like_ being a whore_…

But then the kiss broke, and the hands paused. She looked up at him questioningly, brown eyes confused and a little frustrated—was he _trying_ to make her lose her nerve? Each hiccup in the action let her hesitance get stronger, that nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to get out before she lost her self-worth as well as her job—

"You're not gonna spook on me again, are you?" His tone was gentle. "I don't wanna scare you away."

He was giving her an out. She could still take it—could smooth down her shirt and leave, forget about the most heart-pounding twenty minutes of her life—but that would mean walking away from him, and she didn't have the willpower to do that twice. _No, sir._ In answer she let her hands go to the buttons of her blouse and worked them open one by one.

He dove to the tantalizingly exposed flesh, kissing a trail from her sternum up to the modest white fabric of her bra. She gasped and arched into him as his tongue ran along the tops of her breasts. Her nipples were painfully hard under her bra's artificial shape—the barrier between her skin and his attentions was infuriating. She shrugged off her open blouse and he took the hint. Reaching again around her back, he fumbled and cursed for a moment until the garment's clasp came undone.

His eyebrows shot up at the sight of her naked chest. He stroked one breast with his fingertips, almost as if afraid it was an illusion—the light touch made her shudder—and said under his breath, "Jesus, Caroline…"

"Sir—?" Sudden nervousness cut through her arousal. _Something_ was wrong certainly, the way he was staring—_Oh god I knew it, I'm repulsive—_

He grinned abruptly and scooped the twin mounds up in his hands. Who'd have guessed that under her clothes his prim little assistant had a gorgeous rack? She was full of surprises. He nuzzled into her cleavage, relishing the warm softness of her, and murmured, "You're a _knockout_." She let out a breathy moan as he licked and kissed and fondled. His mouth found the pebbled nub of her nipple—he twirled his tongue around it and nipped it with his teeth, the twinge of pain jolting through her nerves. He repeated the performance on her other nipple, then dragged his tongue up her chest, tracing her collarbone and kissing his way up her throat. He gave her breasts a rough squeeze and chuckled at her whimpers. "That's my girl."

His mouth wandered from her ear to her cheek to her lips, and she snared it in her own. Purely on instinct, she caught him between her thighs and pulled him close, grinding her pelvis against his as their mouths and bodies tangled. The hardness that pressed into her crotch made her heart flutter with fear and excitement. There was an aching emptiness deep in her belly, begging to be filled—she couldn't quite believe what she was asking for. The horrified voice in her head hissed, _Do you really want him to—?_ The thought of it was overwhelming. She imagined him—_inside_ her—and moaned into his kiss as her belly flooded with heat. _YES_.

Taking this as a go-ahead, his hand dove under her skirt, edging aside the very wet fabric of her panties. She groaned as his fingers grazed her skin. _I'm really going to let him do this. I'm really going to let him_—she gasped and ground helplessly against him as he stroked her slit—_touch me there_—he prized her open with careful fingers—_touch me there!_

She felt so warm, and so wet, and so _small_. How could anything fit in there? He slipped the tip of one finger into her, just barely—she thrust her hips against his hand to take more. He rubbed her with his fingertip and she let out a loud moan, clenching tight around him. _That_ was nice. He felt a shudder of agreement in his groin. The bulge in his pants refused be ignored any longer, and his assistant seemed more than willing to accommodate—_Let's get this job done_.

She whimpered as he removed his hand and looked up from her half-reclining position to in time to see him free his erection from his boxers. She couldn't help but stare. It looked alien, thick and stiff, its head ruddy and swollen with anticipation. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Something coiled tight and hot and insistent in the pit of her stomach, _wanting_ it. With a lustful grin he leaned over her, pinning her to the desk, easing her thighs further apart—

_BABIES, you idiot, WAITWAITWAIT_—

Her hand darted out to stop him. "Wait."

"Jesus, Caroline, _what?_" he growled in exasperation. If she was going to leave him hanging again—

She was blushing hotly, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't want to get pregnant, sir."

"…Oh." He blinked and shook himself enough to get his brain working again. "Right. Umm…" Abandoning her abruptly, he turned his attention to his desk drawer, rooting around until his hand brushed a tin of prophylactics. He'd almost forgotten about these—it had been much too long since he last needed them. He brandished the package triumphantly. "Cave's got it covered." It took only a moment of fumbling to get the thing rolled on, and then he was ready. "Now are you _sure_—"

But her mouth cut him off as she grabbed his head and kissed him fiercely. There was a desperate edge to her voice as she murmured, "Just do it before I start thinking again."

The grin returned to his lips. "You got it."

He pushed her down to lie on her back, cushioned somewhat by the stacks of paperwork still on the desk, and let his hands disappear again under her skirt. He spread her legs wide, pressed the head of his cock against her slit—she squeezed her eyes shut, scared and impatient, knowing there was no going back now—and drove himself into her.

She tensed around him as he felt something give way, and a cry of pain escaped her lips. He flinched. _Shit_. "You okay, kid?" _I don't wanna hurt you, please don't let me hurt you_—

She panted, "Fine. Yes. Don't stop."

"You sure?"

"_Don't stop_."

He ploughed into her again, making her moan. He felt exquisite, filling her completely, his hard cock feeling better than she ever thought possible on her virgin flesh—the sting of her ripped hymen was a small price to pay for this. His hands moved to hold her, one under her rump, the other gripping her thigh as he forced himself further in. Nerves she didn't even know she had flared to life and filled her belly with tingling heat. Each thrust forced a little gasping cry from her lips as she closed her eyes, arched her back, flexed her whole lower body around him in an effort to heighten the sensation. He shifted forward the tiniest bit—the pressure on her clit was blissfully intense. She moaned loudly and forced her pelvis up onto him. She felt the rhythm of his thrusts and matched it, bucking her hips against his as he pounded into her, harder, faster, hitting her just right, plunging in as deep as he could reach—

"Aah—hah—_haaah_—_Mr. Johnson—AAAAH!_"

An overwhelming wave of pleasure flooded her senses. Her whole body spasmed with it as it shuddered through her, thrumming along every muscle, clenching in her core as a moment of pure euphoric perfection. The sensation left her limp and shaking as it ebbed away.

She made a pretty picture lying there, nipples hard, chest heaving, eyes closed and mouth open in an expression of bliss—like a woman who'd just had the best orgasm of her life. And in a flash he remembered the sweet, bright, innocent face that greeted him in her interview, the shy smile, the eagerness to please. That same face flushed with sex, soft pink lips gasping for breath, as she lay half-naked on the very desk where he'd given her the job—'Oh, thank you, Mr. Johnson!'

Still breathless from orgasm, that same voice whispered, "Mr. Johnson…"

He thrust into her once more and groaned as he came to a powerful climax. _That's my girl_.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I apologize if updates after this become slow(er), but with school starting I can't promise I'll have much time to write. We'll see. In the meantime, this chapter also contains **graphic sex**; if you will be offended by it, feel free not to read it. Again, **you have been warned**.

.

At last the thundering heartbeat in her ribcage started to slow. It took her a few long moments to catch her breath. She panted raggedly, "Tha—that was… _Wow_." She opened her eyes to meet his—the self-satisfied smirk on his face, like the cat who got the canary, sent a shiver to the parts of her still humming with sex. She breathed, "You're amazing."

His smirk widened. "I'm Cave Johnson."

"Yes you are." _Cave Johnson just made love to me_. The thought was almost surreal. Half her lifetime ago she'd been avidly following his career in the papers, dreaming of doing great science like him one day—and now, well—_Does this count as science? _She giggled. The fretful voice of her common sense was finally silent, and she was free to bask in the blissful afterglow. She melted onto the desk with a contented sigh.

Cave chuckled. Sprawled out half-naked across his paperwork and sporting a euphoric smile, Caroline looked like a perfect pinup girl. _There's an idea_. He made a mental note of it. _Find an excuse to get some photos of her like this. My desk has never looked better_.

He eased gingerly out of her, careful not to let the condom slip off until he was free. As he tied off the used rubber, he noticed something on the latex—a bright red smear of blood. _Huh_. His brow furrowed slightly. _Wonder what that's… from… Oh._ Oh.

It explained a lot. Her perfect tightness, the tearing as he entered—her inexperience. No wonder she'd been so jumpy at first. "Are you—" He made a small throat-clearing noise. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"No sir." She gazed up at him with those trusting eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no no." He trashed the condom and zipped himself back into his pants before returning his attention to her. One hand trailed up her thigh to caress the curve of her hip. She let out a tiny gasp and her eyes slipped closed for a second as she savored the sensation. He couldn't help a smile—she was so damn _cute_. "So I'm your first, huh?"

"Yes sir." There was still bashfulness in her tone, but much less now—no use being shy with him after this. Her eyes met his again, and she matched his soft smile. "There's no one I'd rather have." And that was the truth. He leaned in to her lips and she responded with a moaning sigh, more than willing to indulge as he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was long and tender and filled her with glowing warmth. As he broke away and nuzzled into her neck, she breathed softly, "I can't believe this is happening."

His mouth found her throat and sucked hard, making her shudder with delight, and he growled in her ear, "Believe it yet?" She giggled in response. "Maybe I oughta show you again." He grasped her breasts and tweaked her nipples roughly as he kissed his way down her chest and stomach. She squirmed beneath him and arched her back into the kisses. Made confident by her compliance, he looked up from her navel and purred, "You wanna come back to my place?"

His hazel eyes gazing up from between her breasts rekindled the heat in her belly. Her answer was almost a whimper: "Uh huh."

"Great." He kissed her hard on the lips again and grinned wolfishly. "When I'm done with you, kiddo, you won't be able to stand."

But she was already giddy, breathless, and very unsure of her legs. "I don't think I can stand _now_."

"I gotcha." Without a second thought he swept her into his arms and carried her to the door.

"Sir, aren't we forgetting some things?"

"Like what?"

"Your briefcase, and my… clothes…"

"What d'you need those for?"

She shyly hid her breasts with her hands. "I can't exactly go out like this."

"Here." He returned her to the desk and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair for her. She shrugged it over her shoulders, swallowed by the fabric, and blissful warmth flooded her veins as she inhaled. It smelled like him. Meanwhile he'd found his briefcase and was looking impatient. "Ready now?"

"Could you get my purse, too? It's by the door."

He grabbed it and, noticing her blouse and bra still on the floor, stuffed them inside. "There. That everything?"

"I think so—" Then she noticed his feet and had to stop herself from laughing. "Except for your shoes, sir."

"Hm?" He looked down and realized he was still wearing only his socks. "Hell. Where—"

"By the coffee table, sir."

He retrieved the shoes from where she'd left them after his foot massage and slipped them on his feet. "Okay. _Now_ are we ready to go?"

"I think so, sir."

"_Good_." He scooped her up again, caught his briefcase and her purse both in one hand, and headed out the door.

The concrete labyrinth of the facility felt somehow homey when they were alone together. She relaxed into his arms and watched door after familiar door go by. His footfalls echoed on the floors and resonated through the empty rooms. During the day the place was alive with people doing science, but at night it was a skeleton—apart from the two of them. It was as if they had the whole world to themselves. She could live with that.

She wriggled out of his arms once they reached the main lift—it wouldn't do to let him hurt his back—but he kept a possessive arm around her waist as they walked to his Roadmaster in the parking lot. He opened the door for her like a gentleman, letting her slide first onto the red leather seat before he took the wheel beside her. She pillowed her head on his shoulder as they pulled out of the lot and left the salt mine behind.

They drove in comfortable silence. Their car was alone on the secluded road—with no buildings and no other vehicles, the Buick's headlights were the only illumination apart from the star-filled sky. Caroline watched the golden glow that lit their path, letting her eyelids slip closed every so often, utterly content. The September night was chilly, but her boss's jacket sheltered her naked torso, and his presence made her feel warm and safe. She snuggled into his side and let herself drift in and out of sleep.

Time felt irrelevant as they drove through the dark. The ride into town was at least a half-hour, but it felt like only minutes before the trees were thinning and buildings were starting to appear. At last they pulled up to a small house on the outskirts of town. She peered out the window at the place. It looked surprisingly ordinary—she always pictured him living in a lavish mansion of some kind—but Cave parked in the driveway and said, "Here we are." _I'm at Cave Johnson's house. I'm going to sleep in Cave Johnson's bed. I'm going to do _lots_ of things in Cave Johnson's bed_… The thought made her tingle with excitement. _Tonight's scientific discovery: lovemaking with Cave Johnson is a wonderful thing. More experiments to follow._

She stepped out of the car and squeaked in surprise as her feet left the ground. "Sir—!" But her protest was ignored as he slung her over his shoulder. Her surroundings passed by backwards as he toted her up to the front door and through the house to his bedroom, where he tossed her with a muted thump onto his double bed. She slipped off her heels and fixed him with a coy smile.

He stepped back to survey his prize, unable to hold back a smug grin of his own. "Ready for—"

But before he could finish gloating she grabbed him by the tie and dragged him into a kiss. It was short but aggressive, and as she broke away she murmured hotly, "Yes, please."

With a laugh he pinned her to the bed beneath him. "You asked for it." He kissed her roughly on the lips, on the throat, down her chest as he ripped open his jacket to expose her torso. She shivered as his mouth claimed her bare breasts, biting and sucking until she whimpered helplessly with desire. He found the zipper of her skirt and yanked it down, hungry for the rest of her, and pulled the modest garment away. He wasn't disappointed—underneath was the most stunning pair of stocking-clad legs he'd ever seen, merging into round hips that curved perfectly to meet her slender waist. This girl was a gem. He dipped his head to her belly, pressed his lips to the flat plane below her navel, and murmured, "Say hi, Caroline."

"Hi, Caroline," she breathed obediently—and gasped as she felt his head nuzzle between her thighs. "Sir—"

He laughed softly, the sound muffled as he pressed his mouth to her crotch. He could feel her wetness soaking the fabric against his lips, could smell the hot female scent of her, sharp and intoxicating in his nose—she was irresistible, and he didn't want to resist any longer. Elastic straps sprang free as he unclipped her stockings from the garter belt that held them up. His fingers curled under one stocking and pulled it down slowly, stripping it off her leg to expose the skin underneath, kissing the naked flesh of her inner thigh as she spread her legs wider. He repeated the process on her other stocking, slid her garter belt off her hips, and left her in nothing but panties. Now for that one last scrap of cloth…

But she beat him to it. Slowly, tentatively, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slipped them down her legs, leaving her body bare. She looked shyly up at him, searching for approval.

She found it as his lips sealed over hers. "You're incredible, kid."

He loosened his tie in a determined gesture and tried to pin her down again, but she stopped him. Her fingers undid his tie and slipped it off his neck before fiddling with the shirt buttons at his collar. "Get rid of this."

He laughed and kissed her again. "Little minx." He helped her with the buttons and shrugged off the shirt, a touch of bravado in his posture as he let it fall to the ground. She eyed him appreciatively. He was powerfully built, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with a light fuzz of hair spread across his pecs. The fuzz diminished to a thin line at his stomach, but grew again past his navel, becoming thicker and darker as it trailed down—to the waist of his pants and the bulge at his groin.

She felt a shiver of delight deep in her belly. _I'm glad to see you too, Mr. Johnson_. Her hands reached eagerly for his fly, and in a blink his remaining clothing was around his ankles. His half-hard cock didn't spook her this time—taking hold of his hips, she kissed his pelvis as he had kissed hers, hoping it gave him the same tingling rush. He moaned and shoved his hips into her face. Glancing down at the appendage under her chin, Caroline had a thought—maybe it was time for an experiment.

She slid down the bed onto her knees and pressed her mouth to him again, lower this time, almost at the base of his shaft. After a moment's hesitation her tongue flicked tentatively out to run down his length. He groaned deeply and shuddered. She repeated the motion, feeling him stiffen rapidly with her attention, and wrapped her lips around his head in a tender kiss. Panting for breath, he knotted his fingers in her hair and started to pull her onto him—but stopped as those deep dark eyes caught his gaze. One hand eased out of her hair to stroke her cheek. "You're not getting off that easy."

He eased her up from the floor, laid her across the bed, and climbed on top of her, a lustful grin broad on his lips. She took his head in her hands and drew him into a kiss. His full weight came down on her as he ground into her, his erection hard and enticing between her thighs—she moaned softly into his mouth and dragged her fingers down his spine. The touch made him thrust his hips against her. His cock was maddening, forced up against her pelvis—she ached for him inside her—her legs spread wide, and she whimpered desperately, "_Sir_…" He silenced her with an aggressive kiss, moving from her mouth to her throat, biting and sucking at her soft flesh as one hand ventured towards her sex—

"Shit."

She felt a sudden and unwelcome draft as he rolled off of her. "Sir—!"

But he was rummaging through his nightstand, looking for something. "Dammit, I know I had a few more in here…"

"Mr. Johnson, _please_…"

"Looking for condoms, Caroline, keep your shirt on. Or don't," he added with a chuckle at the irony.

But she was beyond caring, consumed by the arousal throbbing through her veins. Impatient fingers rubbed her slit, feeling her own wetness, massaging her clit with one hand as the other stroked her stomach—she gasped and bucked her hips just slightly into the touch.

The sound made him glance back at her. "Hey, wait for me!"

She bucked again and slipped her fingers inside herself. Her answer was a throaty moan.

"Alright, alright, I got it." And he was back on top of her, safely sheathed and poised to enter her as he gazed into her hungry eyes. "You want it?"

"Yes sir."

"You sure?"

"_Yes_."

"You want Cave Johnson—"

"_Shut up_."

Before he could blink she flipped him on his back and impaled herself on him. She bit back a cry as he stabbed into her—penetration still hurt a bit, but he felt _so good_. Her face scrunched with concentration as she thrust onto him, eased up, thrust down again, focusing totally on the sensation inside her. His cock stroked the tight knot of need coiled in her belly, sending shocks deep into her core each time she came down on him—she rode him harder, desperate for more—

And then she was on her back again, his powerful frame pinning her down as he slammed into her, and she couldn't hold back a howl. Her nails dug into the small of his back as her thighs locked around his waist. He pounded her into the mattress, grunting like an animal, breath heavy with exertion, faster and harder until he was biting his lip with the strain—

"_Mr. Johnson—!_"

They came explosively to orgasm. Her whole body clenched around him as he spilled into her—she clung to him desperately as waves of euphoria crashed into her, washed over her, surged through her to vibrate every last nerve with potent pleasure, until at last it flowed away to leave her spent. Utterly exhausted, they collapsed together in a sweating, panting heap.

It took several minutes for either one to move. Finally Cave raised his head and chuckled weakly, "You learn fast!" The girl beneath him let out a breathless laugh and pecked him on the cheek. He grinned. "Kid, you're amazing." His mouth caught hers in a last tender kiss before he slid off. "I gotta go piss."

Caroline watched him hobble to the bathroom and thought to herself, _How romantic_—but there was no edge to her sarcasm. Lying limp and boneless in his bed after the second incredible orgasm of her life, nothing in the world could faze her. She felt like a goddess. This was a far cry from the fairytale evening she'd always dreamed of, with champagne by candlelight and a handsome stranger—but she wouldn't trade it for anything. For a few long moments, she closed her eyes, melted into the mattress, and was content simply to breathe.

Her eyes opened again as she heard the flush of a toilet, followed by his returning footsteps. He smirked to see she hadn't moved from where he left her. "I really tuckered you out, huh?"

"Yes sir, you did." Her mouth curved into a lazy smile. He dipped his head and kissed her again, bumping his nose against hers. She giggled suddenly. "You bite your lip when you make love."

Narrowing his eyes, he growled, "I bite my lip like a _man_."

"I like it." Her hand reached up to stroke his jaw, and she drew him into another kiss. Grinning playfully, he collapsed onto the bed and rolled her on her side, spooning around her like a child with a favorite toy. Strong arms encircled her waist and held her tight. She smiled—of course he liked to cuddle. The big teddy bear.

"Say g'night, Caroline."

"Goodnight, Caroline."

He sighed heavily and nuzzled into her hair. "Kid, you are something special."

"Thank you, sir." The words sent a soft, blissful warmth spreading through her body. As she closed her eyes to sleep, she felt like the most special woman in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I can't believe it's been so long since I last updated! I'm extremely sorry for the unintentional hiatus, and I hope this is worth the wait. I had planned on wrapping up with this chapter plus an epilogue, but... well, it got longer than I expected. One more chapter after this, and _then_ an epilogue, and that should be it. Stay tuned.

But I'll shut up now - you've waited long enough. Yet again, this chapter contains **graphic sex** - don't like it, don't read it. If you _do_ like it, then read on. Happy Halloween!

.

Morning sunlight filtered in through the bedroom window. It painted golden streaks across the bed, playing quietly around the contours of the sleepers beneath the sheets. Curled together in a lovers' embrace, oblivious to the world, they were the picture of post-coital contentment.

She woke first, slowly, rising through the fog of sleep to a placid half-consciousness. There was something peaceful about the soft light, and the stillness, and the heavy, musky smell that hung in the air. She breathed it deeply and sighed. It felt as if all the tension in her body had melted away. She lay there, limp and warm and thoughtless, and let her lips curve into a smile.

Happy. She felt happy. She hadn't felt this happy in a long, long time.

Gradually she registered the other presence beside her—his much larger body spooned around hers, his arm draped across her waist, his breath slow and even on her neck. Still asleep, he shifted with a grumble and pulled her close. One hand moved to fondle her breast; the other pawed between her legs, making her shudder. She let out a wordless, breathy murmur and flexed her thighs around him. His fingers felt so good on her already wet slit… She itched to have him inside her again…

_Mr. Johnson is touching me_.

And in a blink, anxiety came crashing down on her. _Mr. Johnson is touching me, and he's seen me naked, and I went _home_ with him, and oh my god I'm going to lost my job_—

Her whole body went rigid with panic. Feeling the change, he shifted again, butting his head into her shoulder as he hugged her tighter. His hips thrust against her, and her eyes snapped wide open as she felt an erection jab into her backside. It set her thoughts back to racing. _Oh god what if he wants to do it again that would be wonderful NO IT WOULDN'T_—

"Nnhng," he grunted, and ground against her harder. She bit her lip, not knowing what to do—but at the same time her back arched unconsciously to press her rear against him, and that felt _good_—_Stop it, stop it, what are you doing_, stop _it! _It took some effort, but she managed to hold herself in check enough to think. Part of her wanted to scream, and part of her wanted to ride him until her higher functions shut off, but she made herself stay calm and think. 

_How do I fix this?_

He was going to fire her. This had to be an enormous breach of policy—there was no way a subordinate was allowed to sleep with the man she reported to directly. Especially—god, _especially_ the CEO. It was nepotism in the making. What would people say?

_But I didn't do it for favors. I didn't do it for anything. I did it for him_.

Like anybody would believe that. She didn't want to think about the gossip that would come of this. People had talked before, of course, in whispered speculations about the boss and his pretty young secretary, but now… Now it was true. It was all true. When they sniggered behind their hands about late nights at work, when they called her a brownnosing tramp, a gold-digger who opened her legs to earn everything she got…

She bit her lip hard against the tears pricking in her eyes._ I really am a whore_.

Suddenly his arms around her didn't feel so comforting. All her life she'd been the good girl—even teased for it mercilessly back at the orphanage, while all her friends were doing their damnedest to break the rules—and now prim little Caroline was lying naked and sweat-covered beside the man who paid her salary. What a lady. What a respectable girl. Since the day she started work all she'd wanted was her boss's respect, and there was no way she'd get it now. How could he respect a woman who'd begged him for sex, who had writhed and moaned like an animal as he touched her, who'd allowed her virginity to be taken on a desk in the middle of an office—?

_This'll be a story to tell my husband someday_, she thought bitterly. _No, dear, you're not my first. I lost my virginity while working late_. She thought back to the stinging pain when he penetrated her the first time. No amount of worry would make that go away. _So much for saving myself_.

And yet… would she really prefer the handsome stranger in her future to the man holding her now? She didn't know this hypothetical husband—he had no substance, no face. She _knew_ Mr. Johnson. She knew each one of his smiles, and the emotions that went with them. She knew the rough warmth of his voice, and his affectionate pride when he said, "That's my girl." She knew where his body held knots of tension, and how to rub them away. She knew how to make him laugh. She knew the way he liked his coffee.

He was the man she'd idolized since she was twelve. He was brilliant, and passionate, and stubborn, and strong. He made her feel needed. The happiest moments of her life were spent working at his side. And in the back of her mind, locked away where it couldn't nag at her every second of the day—hadn't she always wanted this? As much as she tried to suppress it, hadn't she always wanted him to look at her that way he had last night? To hold her, and kiss her, and purr sweet nothings in her ear? To ensconce her in a protective embrace exactly the way he was doing now? Maybe it wasn't a white wedding and a romantic honeymoon, but…

_Were you saving yourself for someone special?_ Her hands slid over his, and she smiled._ You've got someone special right here._

Maybe this wasn't totally insane after all. Maybe this could be good. If nothing else, she could always fall back on the old Aperture standby: _It seemed like a good idea at the time_…

Cave's thought process was somewhat simpler. He too woke slowly, and realized there was a soft, warm, breathing something in his arms. _Girl? _Yes, his hand was cupping a breast. Girl. And from the way her shape curved from chest to waist to hips, a knockout of a girl. _Nice catch, Cave_, he smirked. _You still got it._

He'd started to worry about himself. It had been ages since he'd brought a woman home—not because he couldn't, but because he just didn't feel like it. Science took up too much of his time. And where would he find a bombshell like this who didn't mind science?

Evidently he'd found one, though. She was here. And she was hot. And she was naked, so they'd done it at least once. He hugged her close and nuzzled into her hair. There was something familiar about her scent—shampoo and sweet perfume and the animal smell of woman, and something else. Something almost metallic, industrial and sharp, which gave him an instinctive adrenaline rush as it teased his nose. Something well-known and well-loved and dammit he should _know_ this—

It clicked. The Enrichment Center. She smelled like the Enrichment Center.

God, that was _sexy_. He snuggled against her and brushed a kiss on the back of her neck. She shuddered at the touch of his lips. Her head lolled back as she cast a glance over her shoulder—and her dark chocolate eyes sent a shivering surge of heat deep into his core. She met his sleepy gaze for a moment—a hint of a smile tugging at her lips—before looking away almost demurely as she murmured, "Good morning, Mr. Johnson."

He blinked in bemusement. "Hey, kid." _What're you doing here? You're not a woman, you're Caroline_. Prim little Caroline with the clipboard and the conservative dresses wouldn't show up naked in his bed, would she? She was innocent and straight-laced and way too young for him, no matter how often he snuck a peek at her curves…

But she sure felt womanly with those curves cuddled against him, and that tempting little smile—he couldn't resist pressing his lips to that smile. She purred wordlessly and melted into the kiss, worming around to face front and draping her arms about his neck as she parted her lips for him. He pulled her close and explored her with his tongue, delving deep, savoring the sense of possessing her. _Cave, you old dog, you definitely still got it_.Sucking gently at her lower lip made her whimper._ Aww yeah_.

He left her mouth and nosed under her chin, nibbling at her throat with a growl that vibrated through her chest. His hot breath on her skin prodded the coals still smoldering in her belly from the night before. As she felt something more literal prod her thigh, she whispered uncaringly, "This is a terrible idea."

"Says who?" His words were muffled in her shoulder.

"You know people will talk."

"Let 'em. More people to fire, fewer salaries to pay. Everybody's happy." He kissed her collarbone and purred, "'Specially me."

She let out a low moan that became a gasp as his lips moved lower. "We shouldn't be doing this." The words were barely a breath. Her back arched up to meet him, offering her chest to his mouth.

"I do what I want, kiddo." His tongue ran across the underside of her breast, making her squirm. "And I know exactly what I want." He closed his lips on one nipple, sucking gently, eliciting soft moans as he mouthed her flesh. She honestly had the most perfect tits he'd ever seen—he cupped them in his hands and buried his face in between. She giggled breathlessly. God, she was cute. He pinched her nipples and listened to her squeak.

"Mr. Johnson…"

Laying his head on her chest, he looked up at her from between her breasts and grinned smugly. "Yeah, kid?"

"Don't stop, please…"

He chuckled into her cleavage and kissed his way back up her throat. "Not a chance." One hand slid down her stomach and between her legs. He rubbed her gently, slipping just his fingertips into her—oh, she was so wet—she thrust up onto him, clenching her thighs around his hand with a groan. His little secretary was _loud_. Another soft chuckle by her ear made her shiver. He could sure give her something to make noise about.

Sealing his lips again over hers, he ran a hand down her thigh, easing it up around his hip—she readily took the hint and wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection pressed hard into her crotch. He ground against her, aching to be inside her again—her sweet soft body was so willing, so recently untouched, and now she was all his—

"Aw, _hell_."

"Sir?"

There was an edge of impatience to her squeak as he released her and hauled himself out of bed. "Kid, we gotta work on this," he grumbled, fumbling again through his nightstand drawer. "Something better than condoms—more convenient, more effective. Aperture-brand. Ah!" He found what he was looking for. "Knew I had another one."

Her eyes widened as she watched him roll the condom on. Somehow that part of what they were doing only just hit her—she hadn't been to Mass in years, but something so expressly taboo as birth control could still make her heart skip. She felt a perverse little thrill at the wrongness of it. _I'm naked in a man's bed, and he's handsome and powerful and good at making love to me, and he's wearing a condom and _I don't care_._ The thought was liberating. _Oh, Sister Francis, if you could see prim little Caroline now_… She allowed herself a giggle and a grin.

All the recent practice helped him sheathe himself in no time. He turned back to see her watching, lying on her side, with her alluring curves covered only by the sheet across her hips. Her dark doe-eyes peeked coyly out at him from beneath the curtain of her hair. It was hard to believe that this was the same shy girl who'd run out on him just last night. Grinning, he brushed her hair back behind one ear and tipped her chin up to kiss her—she responded voraciously, plunging her tongue into his mouth, her hands twining in his hair as she pulled him onto the bed. She really _did_ learn fast.

Her legs opened eagerly for him to fall between them. He rubbed his head into her, making her squirm with need as he teased her clit—his lustful little girl wanted it bad. He chuckled, slipping in just a fraction of an inch, and murmured, "Say the word, kiddo."

Her voice was weak with desperation. "P-please?"

That was enough for him. They both let out low groans as he slid into her. She was deliciously tight. Her hips bucked against his, begging for more—he grunted and gripped the mattress hard as she took him in up to the hilt. A whine escaped her lips. She was still a bit sore from the night before, but oh, he felt incredible, his cock hitting something new and hungry inside her—_yes, yes, yes_—she matched his rhythm as he pounded into her, riding the shockwaves of sensation that pulsed through her with each thrust. He caught his lip between his teeth and shifted forward, thrusting harder, his shaft stroking her clit as he slammed into her. Her nails dug into his shoulderblades as he rode her. Each thrust forced a whimpering moan from her lips, louder and louder as she neared climax, until she clenched around him with a cry that was almost a scream.

"_MR. JOHNSON!_"

He bit his lip hard and stifled a groan as he came. His body shuddered with orgasm for a blissful moment, and then he collapsed onto her, breathing hard, his strength spent. Beneath him his secretary went slowly limp. He could feel her panting for air and shivering with exhaustion. Clumsy with fatigue, he nuzzled into the side of her neck, running his mouth over her skin and drinking in the scent of her—an intoxicating blend of sex and science flooded his nose. He hugged her tight and murmured in her ear, "So how's it feel to be my woman?"

A loving smile ghosted over her lips. "It's wonderful, sir."

He chuckled and kissed her throat, hesitating for a reluctant moment before pulling out and rolling off of her. Her eyes followed his naked body as he trashed the condom—everything about him drew her in like a magnet. He moved like an animal, lumbering, but easy and natural. Like a bear, maybe. She smiled. Her big teddy bear. He was powerful, though not sculpted—but there was a warm softness to his strength that melted her completely. She could cuddle in those muscular arms forever.

Her eyes were brimming with adoration as he met her gaze again. She looked incredible lying there, her sumptuous curves entangled in the sheets, her tousled dark hair spilling across his pillow. This was the same pretty young thing who brightened every morning with coffee and a smile, who made sense of Aperture's massive filing archives when no one else could, who came up with genius ideas whenever they were in a pinch, who mixed his drinks and rubbed his feet. She always knew what he needed. She always got the job done right.

Smiling, he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. His little girl was perfect.

She caught his lips with hers and pulled him into bed, nuzzling into him as he lay down beside her. His fuzz of chest hair felt unusual but pleasant against her cheek. She sighed contentedly, the ghost of a smile returning—_I could be happy waking up to this for the rest of my life_.

_The rest of my life?_

She stopped herself from analyzing the thought. Now was not the time for thinking of the future. Now was the time for cuddling with her boss—her brilliant man of science. She idly wondered how much her heart sped up when she was near him, and what exactly went on in her body during the euphoric moment of climax. What chemistry made her knees go weak for him? Was there a formula that could measure love? That might be worth investigating. Especially if their experiments ended like this…

She inhaled the warm masculine scent of him and smiled. _I love science. Almost as much as I love him. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Again, sorry for the (inexcusably long) gap between updates. As you can see from my story list, I've been sidetracked by a few new ideas, but I could never not finish this. (I've got an epilogue sketched out, so it's not _completely_ done yet, but this is the last actual chapter. That feels good to say.)

So here's your last update of 2011 - Happy New Year, and enjoy!

* * *

><p>They lost track of time as they lay together, drifting along the edge of sleep, content with nothing but each other's warm presence. She felt the rise and fall of breath, slow and even, in his belly, and when she snuggled close she could hear the heartbeat in his barrel chest. She sighed contentedly and brushed her lips against him. She'd never been so happy to do absolutely nothing. She didn't often take time to enjoy a morning in bed—normally she'd be deep underground at her desk by this time of day. One of the simple pleasures she missed while she was at work.<p>

_Oh my god, WORK!_

Her entire body jolted into action as she sprang out of bed. Moving faster than she could think, she bolted to where her closet should be—found no closet in this unfamiliar room—paused to think for a heartbeat and dove for her purse. _I should've been there hours ago what if we get an important call what if the lab needs something what if we have an emergency and oh god I'm not there—_

"Hey, hey, hey! Where's the fire?"

She looked up from hooking on her bra to see her boss blinking at her in sleepy bemusement—but she didn't have time to placate him now. She hurriedly settled her bra and shrugged her blouse over her shoulders, speaking quickly as she did up the buttons. "It's time to get up, Mr. Johnson, we've got to get to work—"

"Easy, kiddo! Relax!" As she bent to snatch her panties from the floor, he caught her about the waist and held her tight.

"Sir—"

"You're not going anywhere." He nuzzled into her breasts and looked up at her with playful eyes.

"But we're late, sir—"

"Caroline, who's the boss?"

She reluctantly stopped trying to pull away. "You are, sir."

"Damn straight!" he laughed. "It's my company, I'll go to work whenever I want!"

"But sir—"

"C'mere." He pulled her onto his lap. "Here's what you're gonna do today. You're gonna stay right here, looking all cute—" His fingers went to the buttons of her blouse "—and I'm gonna screw you 'til you never wanna get up again. Sound good?"

Desire shivered through her as he pressed his lips to her neck. "What about work, sir?"

"Your boss is giving you the day off." He slid her open blouse off her shoulders and went for the hooks of her bra. She relaxed at last into his touch. He stripped off the last troublesome garment and pulled her close, devouring her throat—she shifted to straddle him and gave herself up to his attention. He felt her surrender and chuckled. "That's my girl."

Their mouths found each other in a hungry kiss. His hands ran down her back, making her shudder and groan softly into him—she had never trusted anyone's touch like his before. She craved his. Her arms draped around his shoulders, fingers twining in his hair, as she parted her willing lips for him. Her worries ebbed away as his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she let out a tiny moan…

RRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGG.

The sound of the telephone shocked her out of the kiss. She jumped to answer before she could think—but his arms around her waist kept her firmly in his lap. He murmured around more kisses, "Ignore it."

RRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGG.

As she tried again to pull away he tightened his grip, his lips moving to her throat, teeth grazing her shoulder. "_Ignore_ it."

"But sir—it could be important—"

"This is important."

RRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGG.

But she kept trying to squirm out of his arms, persisting until at last he pinned her to the bed in a rough kiss. That did it. Her reluctance crumbled as she submitted, arching her back with a purr—

RRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGG.

With a grumble of annoyance he tore himself off her and rolled out of bed. She sat up to follow him, but he stopped her with a hand. "Stay." She obeyed for only a moment as he left the room, then hopped up and followed him out.

Her head peeked out of the bedroom doorway in time to see him answer the phone. "Cave Johnson here." With his back turned to her, she took a moment to admire his bare body. The muscles of his back and shoulders, the curve of his spine, the firm roundness of his rear—his _ass_. She tried the word in her mind, toyed with it, and smiled. It was a nice ass.

"Whaddaya want, Greg? …Nah, I'm taking a personal day. Haven't had one in years." He shifted towards her, and his brow furrowed for a second. "Actually—y'know, I don't think I've ever had one. 'Bout time I did! A man needs to unwind once in a while."

She giggled softly. He smirked as she caught his eye, lounging coyly against the doorframe, and beckoned her over with a twitch of his fingers. She obeyed with a grin, letting him loop an arm around her waist. "No, she won't be in either," he replied as her name was spoken on the other end. "Gave her the day off. Poor kid was sick as a dog. Made her stay home. She didn't want to—y'know she's such a good little worker—" He swatted her ass playfully, making her stifle a squeak. "—But I told her science could wait 'til she's outta bed.

"Yeah, Greg. Uh huh. I know." Half-listening with one ear, he tipped the receiver away from his mouth and brushed his lips along her cheek. "Oh c'mon, you can manage without us for one day. Just make sure nothing important blows up without me. Or you're fired. Got it? Good. Don't bother me today unless something explodes that isn't part of a test." The voice on the phone continued to talk, his speech rapid and uneasy. "Greg—Greg, listen—I'm hanging up now, Greg. We're done here. G'bye."

She was on him again before the phone hit its cradle, nuzzling under his chin to kiss his neck. Her curves felt perfect cuddled against him. His fingers trailed up and down her spine, making her purr—a matching sound escaped him as her mouth nibbled and sucked lightly at his throat. He growled in her ear, "You wanna eat breakfast before or after you scream my name again?"

She answered with a passionate kiss. He groaned as her tongue slipped into his mouth, inexperienced but hungry, teasing him to follow. Their bodies pressed together as he kissed back. She melted into him, arms around his neck, letting his strong frame take her weight as she gave in to his touch. One hand slid down to fondle her rump—she felt her heart begin to pound—

Until the kiss was interrupted by a loud grumble from someone's stomach. Caroline looked sheepish. Her last meal had been lunch yesterday, and it was starting to catch up with her. "I guess we should eat, shouldn't we?"

"S'pose so," Cave chuckled, the thought of food rousing his appetite. His assistant started into the kitchen—but his hands on her hips held her back. "Hold on, kid. You heard what I said to Greg. You gotta stay in bed—boss's orders."

"But—"

"No buts. You let ol' Cave take care of you today." With another swat on the rump he shooed her back to the bedroom. She went obediently, trailed by his appreciative eyes on her ass, and cuddled into the well-used sheets. They smelled of sex and him. She couldn't stop smiling.

He joined her a short while later, bearing two plates of something made with processed meat and canned beans that might possibly pass as breakfast food. It was the kind of cooking expected from a lifelong bachelor—good enough, though she silently decided to be the one in the kitchen from then on—but she appreciated it most because she doubted he'd ever cooked _for_ anyone before.

"Now don't think this is a regular thing," he warned, confirming her thoughts, "but—"

A bite of food fell from his fork onto his bare chest—she darted forward to clean the spill with her lips, and looked up at him with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

For a few minutes they cuddled and ate in silence, but their thoughts turned inevitably to business, and they talked marketing over the remainder of the meal. Once the plates were in the sink, he made sure her mind was far away from work.

.

The day passed slowly, in a blissfully lazy haze of sex and afterglow. He taught her a few new positions and tricks, and she thought up a few of her own. ("Are you sure you can bend that way—? _Oh_… Oh, _wow_…") They learned each other's bodies with tender care. They talked about themselves, their lives, their thoughts about the world—but mostly they talked about Aperture, and preferred it that way. It was long after noon before they noticed the time.

Finally, Caroline glanced out the window and realized the sky was not as bright as it had been. "Mr. Johnson? What time is it?"

"Mmmmh." Still exhausted from their last round of lovemaking—letting her ride his cock was hard work—he stretched an arm over to his nightstand and scrabbled around until his hand closed on his watch. He squinted sleepily as he brought it to his eyes. "Four-thirty."

She sat up in bed. "I should go home."

He threw an arm around her and pulled her back down. "Nuh uh."

"I can't stay here all day." She squirmed halfheartedly against his grip, but he kept her pinned to his side.

"Why not?"

"Because… I need to go."

"D'you have to?"

"…I need to."

"But d'you have to?"

She rolled over to look at his sweet sleepy face—oh, it was so hard to say no to him—and cuddled into his chest for a little while longer before forcing herself to get up. "I can't stay, sir. I have chores to do, and I have to clean myself up before tomorrow, and I don't have any clean clothes here…"

He watched her sulkily as she dressed. Each piece of clothing took his newly claimed girl's luscious naked body further and further away—but she looked determined, and he knew better than to force the issue. Finally he sighed and said, "I guess I should drive you home, huh?"

She smiled as she did up the last buttons on her blouse. "Thank you, sir."

He pulled on a comfortable sweater and some pants, and soon they were in the car. The drive was a long but easy one. With assistant cuddled under her boss's arm, they chatted or lapsed into silence at leisure, stopping just once when he said he had to pick up something from the drugstore. It took him only a few minutes—when he returned, he winked and tossed a paper bag into her lap. "Got you a present, kid."

She peeked inside the bag and couldn't hold back a blushing grin at its contents. That was a _lot_ of condoms.

At last they pulled into the driveway of her modest duplex. He escorted her up the front walk. At the door they shared a chaste goodnight kiss—or the late afternoon equivalent. He held her longer than necessary, reluctant to let her out of his arms, but at last he released her and turned to leave.

"Mr. Johnson—" Her voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned back hopefully to see her holding back a smile. "Do you really have to go?"

"Y'know, I… I did wanna talk to you about… um…" He tried and failed to come up with a work-related excuse.

"_Come in_, sir," she said pointedly, and pulled him into a kiss.

.

Later that night, there was a knock at Caroline's door. She quickly threw on a bathrobe to answer it—outside was the elderly woman who shared the other side of her duplex. "Hi Mrs. Watts," Caroline greeted her, a little confused.

"Hello Caroline. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that I heard some odd noises, and I wanted to check on you. Sounded like banging and screaming."

Caroline turned bright red. "I didn't hear anything, Mrs. Watts. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

"Alright, dear. Just making sure." She started to go, but stopped as the older woman continued, "And Caroline—"

"Yes?"

Glancing at the driveway, Mrs. Watts added with a wink and a smile, "Your boyfriend has a very nice car."

Caroline was still blushing scarlet as she returned to her bedroom.

Looking up to see her enter, the man waiting naked in her bed chuckled at her expression—she looked like she'd seen a very embarrassing ghost. "What happened, kid?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Good," he growled, and pulled her firmly into his arms. For the rest of the night, her worries fled.


End file.
